"It's not that I'm sending him across the world, it's that I'm sending him." Deb Gibson

Last night I dreamt (dreamed?) that I was on a playground surrounded by children when all of a sudden we were being attacked by wild animals. There were baby elephants, tigers, and lions. (Evidently this playground was in Africa.) I woke up exhausted from running and in a panic because instead of saving my child from these ferocious beasts, I ran like a scared little kitten to the safety of the school. To be honest, I’m really not sure how Coulter faired.


O.K., I’m no psychologist or psychiatrist or anything close, but you don’t have to be too smart to figure this one out. Coulter starts kindergarten on Monday and let me just say to all those would-be wild animals (even the baby elephant ones) who even think of trying to torment (or more to the point, corrupt) my sweet boy, this Mama Bear will not run. She will come after you. As a matter of fact, I have discovered a side street in which I can park my van and watch the children at recess. I just very well might become “that mother.”

Also last night, before the sleeping and the dreaming, I had a work event that finished a little before I had planned. Instead of going straight home I went for ice cream and drove to Coulter’s school where I sat in a swing, ate my ice cream filled with chocolate and cried my eyes out. After a few minutes, people began staring and I became worried that someone might call the police, so I politely threw the evidence of my indulgence and drove calmly home. I expected the children to already be asleep but as soon as I walked in I heard screams of “Mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Mommyyyyyyyyy!” As if that weren’t enough, I could also hear Coulter saying, “Dad, I actually think she wants Mom.”

While, I do truly love those rare times that I come home and the children are all nestled in and fast asleep, I love even more the nights that we snuggle together, read books, sing songs and say our prayers. I was secretly pleased that I was needed because I think at the root of all these kindergarten tears is this inner knowledge that while he still needs me....he will always need me……he won’t need me in the Emma Claire “Mommyyyyyyyyyy!” kind of way. It’s such a surreal experience and one that obviously almost all parents go through and yet it feels like surely no one else could be experiencing it in quite this same way. Even my own mother told me that she didn’t cry after dropping off my sister or me to kindergarten---only our younger brother. Uhm, gee thanks, Mom!

The truth is we’ve spent the past 5 years shielding, protecting, and nurturing. We’ve researched and paid top dollar for the best pre-school teachers in the city. We’ve had our “Pammy” so that he wouldn’t be exposed to the “elements” of day care, whatever that means. Basically, we’ve been in complete and total control. And now, in this crazy messed up society of ours, I’m just supposed to drop him off at school on Monday where he will begin to spend the better part of each day with total strangers. Strange grown-ups. Strange children. Strange custodians. Strange food. Strange parents. Strangers! Come to think of it, why are we teaching our children to be afraid of strangers? We seriously have to go back and revise the hammered home message of stranger/danger and I’ve got less than 48 hours in which to do so!

As I said,almost all parents go through this and for those that don’t it pretty much means they’ve decided to homeschool. I have lots of great, great friends who homeschool and do so successfully and yet I also know I could never do it. My friend Debi lives in Cameroon as a missionary with her husband and 5 children. Home schooling makes sense for her. My friend, Jenna, has children with health problems and severe allergies and it makes sense for her. I have friends who homeschool for religious and spiritual reasons and friends who are concerned about the quality of public education. But there is one more category that I never even thought of until now. I am here to tell you that parents are home schooling because they don’t want to send their children to kindergarten. I know this because as incapable as I am of homeschooling my children (much the same way that I would be incapable of having 5 children, much less moving them to Africa to minster to a dying nation;) even I have given it great thought over the past few weeks. And yet logic resurfaces from time to time and in the end I know we are "to be in the world and not of it;" in the end I know I will, with a joyful (albeit breaking) heart, take Coulter to kindergarten. I will smile and hug and encourage and will save my tears for the drive home.

Our dear friend, Deb, a gifted writer just sent her youngest son to college. She posted on facebook last week, “It’s not that I’m sending him around the world, it’s that I’m sending him.” Harvey Dunn Elementary is a mile from our home (and don’t forget about the secret street for spying) and yet it’s not that he’s going around the world or even across town; it’s that he’s going.